


Secret Admirer

by HallowedNight



Series: Newmann One-Shots [8]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Cute, Flowers, Fluff, Love Notes, M/M, Romance, Science Pick-Up Lines, unmitigated fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-23
Updated: 2014-08-23
Packaged: 2018-02-14 08:17:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2184507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HallowedNight/pseuds/HallowedNight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermann starts getting drowned in mysterious affection, and he's only been at work for a week.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secret Admirer

**Author's Note:**

> This was so much fun. So. Much. Fun.

Hermann stared at his empty coffee cup with poorly disguised irritation, silently willing it to fill itself and get his day started for him. He had only been at his new job for a week, and he was already hating nearly everything about it; the actual work was okay, but the rooms were cold and dark and made his leg hurt, no one took him seriously, and his ‘partner’ was a total hack.

Well, at least, Hermann thought he was. He looked like one. Always traipsing around in skinny jeans and stupid looking skinny ties with his tattoos showing; who has Kaiju tattoos anyway? Wasn’t that like tattooing a rival gang’s leader all over your chest?

Of course, Hermann hadn’t actually _talked_ to the man yet. Though Hermann knew the man’s name was Newton Geiszler, all his supposed colleagues referred to him as Newt, which was extremely unprofessional in Hermann’s opinion. Ridiculous, even. The nerve of some people.

The mathematician sighed long-sufferingly and dragged himself to his feet to procure a coffee bag from the little tin on the counter of the tiny kitchenette in his workspace. He hated instant coffee but didn’t feel like boiling water for tea, so the horrid, watered-down swill would have to do; after all, he needed to get to work anyway.

As he opened the tin, however, an out-of-place piece of paper caught his attention. Tilting his head slightly, Hermann plucked the paper from among the coffee bags and unfolded it.

_To Dr. Gottlieb (Because you probably don’t like people calling you Hermann),_

_I hope you’re settling in well, as far as settling in goes._  
Also, I think you’re kind of attractive,  
and your sweater vests turn me on.

_Yours truly,  
Too Scared To Tell You Who I Am So Keep Guessing, Mister_

A totally uncalled for blush crept onto Hermann’s cheeks as he immediately tucked the note into the front pocket of his, er, sweater vest. Suddenly not in the mood for coffee, the man turned on his heel and marched out of the kitchenette, waving aside an intern’s call of: “Are you alright, Dr. Gottlieb?”

This was certainly an interesting turn of events, Hermann thought as he struggled to focus on the preliminary models of the Breach constructing themselves on his holo-projector. But no, his work was much more important, this research could change the entire way they look at the Breach…

Hermann’s thoughts ground to a halt as he reached for his favorite notebook and pen; a tiny white flag had been attached to the pen, which, he saw as he spread it flat, read “Have a math-tabulous morning” in blaringly pink capital letters. The flush returned in full force as Hermann jammed the pen into his desk and grabbed another one, completely unsure if he should feel flattered or creeped out at the new interest someone had taken in him.

Sighing heavily as he willed the color to retreat from his cheeks, Hermann held his newly-acquired pen between his teeth as he flipped to the newest page in his notebook; doing some good, old-fashioned, hard copy math would take his mind off-

Hermann almost threw the book away from him as he finally reached what was supposed to be a free page, but instead slammed it shut and clutched it to his chest like a lifeline, his face now brick-red and splotchy. Someone had gotten into his notebook when he wasn’t looking and had drawn an extremely detailed and, quite frankly, overtly sexual-looking picture of him draped in nothing but a sheet and surrounded by roses; even as he gazed at the back cover of the book in pure horror, the mathematician couldn’t help but admire the skill required to draw something so detailed without a model…

Now even more flustered, Hermann almost missed the message scrawled on the back of the notebook.

_To Dr. Gottlieb,_

_I figured you would shut the notebook immediately,_  
so I put this on the back. I hope you liked my art or  
at least got a kick out of it, if the shock didn’t kill  
you.

_Yours devoted,  
Nice Try But I’m Still Not Telling You Who I Am_

_P.S. I really hope that didn’t kill you. I worked  
really hard on it._

_P.P.S. Your hands are really attractive, did you  
know that?_

Now thoroughly convinced his face was going to burst into flame, Hermann shoved the notebook into the bottom drawer of his desk and pushed his chair away, staring at the desk like it contained a nest of cobras. He had nearly regained control of himself when a rather sheepish-looking intern approached him carrying an enormous bunch of white and red roses.

“Oh, _please_ don’t tell me those are for me,” Hermann said before the intern could speak, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes momentarily.

“I’m afraid so, doctor,” she replied, setting the vase of flowers on the desk. “They just came for you. This came with it.”

“Came for me? Came how?” Hermann asked suspiciously as he relieved the poor girl of the envelope she had held towards him.

“They were on a little robot. Whoever made it must have been quite smart, as no one was around to control it,” the intern replied.

“Yes… Well, thank you very much.” The disgruntled mathematician glanced up for a second to nod in the girl’s direction before returning to the card now clutched in his shaking hands; his name was written on the envelope in the same preposterously bright pink as the pen-flag. The letter inside, however, was written in deep black ink; the calligraphy was impressive, and Hermann could tell it had been done with a real fountain pen.

_To Dr. Gottlieb,_

_I really hope you’re not allergic to roses._  
I didn’t take the thorns off either, so please  
don’t try to hold these in your mouth or  
anything. I don’t think that would go well.  
Anyway, it’d be pretty cool if you would  
show up outside the K-Science lab tonight  
at seven, I have a surprise for you.

_Yours forever (if you don’t hate me),  
Sorry, You’ll Have To Wait Till This Evening To Find Out Who I Am_

_P.S. These roses are red,_  
Most Kaiju glow blue,  
My hand’s cramping up,  
So I’ll say adieu. 

A smattering of little hearts followed the poem.

Feeling extremely resigned to his sappy, hugely cliché, _ridiculously romantic_ fate, Hermann chucked the letter in the same drawer as his notebook and pulled himself back up to his desk, praying to whatever god was listening that no more little surprises would pop up that day.

No one listens to Dr. Hermann Gottlieb, apparently.

Though there were no more semi-nude drawings or gigantic bouquets, several other small notes bearing slogans like “If I were an enzyme, I’d be DNA helicase so I could unzip your genes” and “I wish I was your derivative so I could lie tangent to your curves” kept cropping up in random places, such as underneath Hermann’s chalk box and inside covers of his favorite books. It was infuriating to no end.

“You and I would add up better than a Riemann sum,” which was taped to Hermann’s secret box of Swiss chocolate finally won the mathematician over.

At precisely seven o’clock that evening, a unnecessarily nervous Hermann arrived outside the Kaiju-Science lab. He tried his best to ignore the smell and sinking feeling as he entered the entirely empty corridor; if this was all a joke to play on the new guy…

A sudden commotion in the lab, which consisted of a crash and a great deal of cursing, drew Hermann’s attention; the door suddenly flew open, and none other than Newton Geiszler all but fell out of the room, covered in Kaiju fluids and cursing like a sailor.

“ _Dammit_ , this the absolute _worst_ \- Oh, hi!” The biologist grinned widely as he finally seemed to notice Hermann, who was standing stock-still several years away, a look of muted dismay fixed on his face. “Sorry, I completely lost track of time-”

“So you’re the one who put all those notes in my workroom?”

“Yep, that was me,” Newton replied brightly.

“And the roses?”

“Programmed the robot myself!”

“And the, ahem, drawing?”

Newton’s smile turned sheepish. “Yeppers, that too.”

Hermann opened his mouth to continue, but Newton shushed him with a wave of his hands; Kaiju fluids sprayed everywhere as the biologist rushed back into the lab, calling for Hermann to wait a moment. Though the mathematician seriously considered just walking away, something kept him there, muddled feelings worming their way through his irritatingly sluggish brain.

“Alright!” Newton bustled out of the lab several minutes later, clean of Kaiju bits and wearing a black t-shirt with the words “biologists do it naturally” emblazoned on the chest. Hermann resisted the growing urge to roll his eyes. “I, uh… Well, I actually made you something,” the man said, appearing suddenly shy as he fiddled with something behind his back. “It’s okay if you don’t like it or anything, I just…was bored, you know-”

Newton clamped his mouth shut as Hermann approached him and held out his hand, waiting. The biologist took a deep breath and plunked the object behind his back into the outstretched hand, then proceeded to glance anywhere but Hermann’s face as the taller man inspected the thing.

It was a stuffed animal that looked suspiciously handmade; stitches were visible in several places, and the painted buttons representing eyes were slightly different sizes, but the silhouette was unmistakable.

“Is this…Trespasser?” Hermann said as he turned the plush over in his hands. Newton beamed, apparently thrilled that Hermann saw the resemblance.

“Yeah, totally! Do you like him?”

Hermann couldn’t help equating the man’s expression with that of a puppy who learned a new trick and was overly-eager to please its owner.

“I…of course. He’s cute,” the mathematician replied with an incredulous chuckle.

“Awesome! So…do you wanna go on a date this evening?” Newton asked, bouncing on his heels and grinning stupidly. Hermann sighed and returned the smile.

“Well, with hundreds more notes a certain alternative…do I really have a choice?”

Newton punched the air and ushered Hermann towards his room so he could change. Hermann was the first to break the comfortable silence that fell after a few moments.

“So…Riemann sums? Really?”

Newton waved the comment away, still grinning like an idiot. “Don’t ask me, man, I really don’t know that much about math. I found most of those on the internet.”

Hermann sighed; what in the world had he gotten himself into?


End file.
